


circles and subways

by mich_22wolves



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mich_22wolves/pseuds/mich_22wolves
Summary: Sonnett experiences love and freaks out about it.Based on the beautiful German short story "Schwarzfahren für Anfänger".
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Kudos: 52





	circles and subways

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy.   
> Also, Black Lives Matter.

The people that are standing are swaying gently back and forth. You look out the window: It's completely dark. You told her: "I'll call you." Then you ran, down the stairs, through the door. You didn't look up towards her window. You ran past the bakery, where yesterday, she got you both donuts after school. Her parents weren't home, you ate on her bed. You took a left, down to the subway station. Stairs up again, platform 1. Now you are back there. The subway goes in circles, over and over again, all through the night. You blink until your tears blur the platform. Right now, you'd like to be elsewhere, another city, one you don't know. A bunch of people enter the train. One of them is a woman in her mid-forties. She's wearing normal clothing but then she takes out a clipboard. She's a ticket inspector. Normally, you spot those from a mile away, you never buy a ticket. But you were distracted. Because of Lindsey.

Lindsey always has a ticket and, in general, is one of those people that can do no wrong. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the woman slowly creeping in your direction. She stops when she is next to your seat. You have to look up at her. "Can I ask you a few questions?" You just nod. "Age?" "Eighteen." "And where did you get on?" Where Lindsey lives. You wish you were back with her, your head in her lap. You were listening to music, your new playlist. You didn't tell her, but all the songs are about her. They always are. And you ate gummy bears. An hour ago, everything was fine. 

"And where do you want to get off?" You're going in circles. Where do you want to go? Where do you not want to go is the more important question. The woman is tapping on her clipboard. She's getting impatient. "I... don't know? Sometimes I do this... just driving around." You are stuttering. You hate it. Why did you not just stay any stupid station? "Ah." Her face can't hide what she is thinking about you. You are beside yourself. 

This is exactly how it started, with you and Lindsey. With driving in circles. Sometimes you just get sick of your home, of your mother. And then you take the subway. You watch people, imagine what their day looks like. Or you watch the city go by. And on one of those days, you met Lindsey.

You didn't know her name was Lindsey, back then, she was just some girl, that slumped down on the opposite seat. Approximately your age, wasn't easy to tell because her hood was on, covering half of her face. There was something in her hand as well, and you tried to guess what it could be. "You want one?", the girl said. "What?" "You want a gummy bear? Cause you keep staring at the package." It was embarrassing. Normally you were good at not getting caught staring. "Sorry." You can see a slight smile on the girl's face. "It's okay. What color?" "Doesn't matter, anything except red." Her hood went up a bit and you could finally see more of her face. It looked soft, pleasant. "Most people like red the best." Now it feels crazy, how everything started with this conversation. "I just don't like it. I think people only like the red ones because of the color. Red like love, hearts, roses, all that stupid stuff." And that's how you met Lindsey. You kept arguing over the gummy bears and after you went in a circle two times, she gave you her number. 

After, you kept meeting up. Not just on the subway, though that is your favorite place. Lindsey listens when you tell her about all the observations you've made about the clueless people on the train with you. And Lindsey tells you stuff too, things she did that day, things she wants to do tomorrow. You talk a lot. But now...

You feel tears running down your cheeks and you turn towards the window. The woman questioning you is still staring at you. Why does she not just leave you alone? An hour ago you were in Lindsey's lap, with her stroking your hair. "Do you remember the day we met?" Her voice was pleasantly deep, calm, steady like it always is. "I was on my way to basketball practice. But when my stop came I just stayed with you." You knew she was trying to be sweet. "Why?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished you could take them back. But it was too late. Lindsey leaned down, one hand on your cheek. She kissed you. She tasted like red gummy bears, like love, hearts, and roses. She'd smiled. "That's why." And her smile dropped again. "I... think I'm in love with you, Em." She had never said something like that before, you don't do that. You took your head out of her lap. You could still feel her breath on your face, could see her questioning look. You even wiped your mouth, but the feeling on your lips wouldn't leave. It feels like it still hasn't left. You thought about the last time the two of you were on the subway together, the last ones on the train. The city outside belonged to you and Lindsey that night. But then you thought about your mother, lying on the floor, pleading with your dad to not leave her, leave you. She was crying: "It hurts, it hurts..." Lindsey is waiting for something. "Em, say something." But you said nothing. You were angry. How could Lindsey be so sure? What even is love? And how do you know if you are in love? How do you know it's serious? So you stayed silent, just a small: "I'll call you." And then you ran, down the stairs, through the front door. 

Now you are sitting here. You feel screwed over. By Lindsey, by the subway, by life, by yourself. "I don't know what's up with you, but I'd like to see your ticket." Right, she's still here. You are too tired to lie. "Don't have one." The woman sighs. "Then I'd like to see your ID." You lower your head so you don't have to keep looking at her and search around your pockets for your wallet. You can see her leather shoes in your peripheral vision. Another set of shoes join them. Those you know. Adidas sneakers. "This is her ticket.", says Lindsey. She shoves the ticket in the woman's direction. The woman takes it, inspects it, and nods. "And where is your ticket, young woman?" Lindsey just shrugs. "Don't have one." While Lindsey pays her fine, you are looking at her like the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you doing here?" Your voice sounds scratchy, rough. "I knew you'd get on the subway." She falls into the seat next to you. "I just stood on the platform and waited till you came back around. Was a bit lucky that I saw you." Silence. You can tell that she is afraid to look at you. You are too. "You haven't figured out how tickets work yet, have you?", you say, just for the sake of saying something. "You'll just have to practice with me then." She's grinning. It makes you feel lighter. After a few minutes of watching the city fly by, she turns to you again. "Are you scared, Em?" You take a deep breath. "Yeah. A little." Lindsey takes your hand, it's warm. "Me too." You look outside. The city belongs to you and Lindsey again.


End file.
